Slayer of the World
by Senju Kun
Summary: In the aftermath of Unlimited Blade Works; Gilgamesh, the mighty King of Heroes, is slayed in one fateful confrontation by one Harry James Potter. Now, with the world beneath his feet, what will the young, green eyed God Slayer do? A very dark shade of grey Harry. Contains elements from HP Verse, Campione Verse, Nasu Verse and Elfen Lied. (Warning: Rated M for extreme violence.)
1. A Touch of Death

**A/n: Hello everyone. Welcome to the reboot of my first story – The Slayer of the World. The original one was scrapped by me because of some inconsistencies and contrived plotlines. Hope you enjoy this reboot.**

**Disclaimer: Everything is owned by their respective owners. I am just mongrelizing it for my own pleasure.**

**Chapter 1 – A Touch of Death**

The sound of rubber tires crunching through the dirt and pebbles of country side road came to gradual stop as the rumbling engine of the car quieted down in this chilly night. When it fully came to halt, the car door, which usually made a loud clicking noise when opened, creaked cringingly as it was opened tentatively and slowly.

"Vernon, what if someone finds out?" The female occupant inside the car, whose face was shadowed by the darkness of the night, whispered out with anxiousness in her voice.

A straight weak ray of light suddenly burst into existence, when the man named Vernon, switched on his torch to see around in this moonless environment. Giving his torch a few solid thumping, he grunted in dissatisfaction as it failed to light up in its full potential.

"Bah! Stupid thing…" he gave up and then fumbling against the door handle, swung open it wider. "If you keep freaking out like that, then someone will really find out." He disgruntledly said.

Opening the back door, he placed the torch in his mouth and holding it in place with his teeth, he leaned inside and took hold of something and began to drag it outside, revealing it as a plastic bag of about half his height. Huffing as he did so, he unceremoniously threw it down with a thud on the grassy ground and leaned against his car to catch his breath.

Looking down at his big rotund belly, he played with the idea of shedding those off. Maybe then, he wouldn't have to sweat like a pig after just doing a menial task like this one. 'Oh, who am I kidding? This is the sign of being well-off.' He thought and peered inside the car.

"Oi Petunia, if someone asks where the boy is? We say…" he trailed off, signaling her to continue.

"…that… that… he went to play outside… and… and never came back." Petunia tried to answer.

"Absolutely! And don't have fret much over this issue. Those military guys said that they will handle all the legal matters, OK?"

"Ok!" Not knowing what to do, Petunia could only nod meekly as she gave a sideways glance at the plastic bag. 'I hope you will forgive me, Lily.' She remorsefully thought. She didn't want this to happen. It felt very wrong for her to do this to her… nephew.

'NO, freak!' she tried to assert. Vernon had assured her that, they were only doing a huge favor to her late sister by doing this. And looking at that freak, she couldn't agree more.

She knew what he was, she knew what he was capable of, and she also knew the boundaries of his kind's capabilities; Lily was not the only one who read extra in her youth. She knew that these wizards, while powerful, had many disabilities and handicapping factors too. Those disabilities and handicapping factors, which her freak of a nephew did not show.

It was terrifying.

"Alright then, if I remember correctly, they said the place is around here. I will return soon after disposing off this… waste. So, if anyone comes, say that my husband has gone for a quick leak."

Brought out of her train of thought, she silently nodded and closed the car doors, while trying to make her as inconspicuous as she could by turning off all the inner car lights. To tell the truth, the thought of remaining alone – even for few minutes – in this dreary looking jungle of an uncharted place was bone chilling. She just hoped that her husband will back soon.

And as for her husband, the large figure of Vernon picked up the bag and began to stumble his way through the uneven grounds. After few minutes had passed, he began to feel queasy bit apprehensive about all this. Pessimistic thoughts were beginning to permeate his mind.

'What if the drug wore off? What if this freak is awake this whole time? What if….'

"Goddammit!" He cried out aloud as he fell down in a heap after having his foot caught in a stray vine across the forest bed. He should have been more careful, and careful he was; but after hearing the sound of nearby stream – the designated place – he had grown excited. Cursing up a storm, he quickly gathered his bearings and looked for his 'waste'.

'Shit!'

His breath rate suddenly skyrocketed as irrational fear began to course through him as he came face to face with a pale face of a very young boy with deep jet black hair. The plastic bag must have ripped open when it fell, resulting in just the head of his freakish nephew to pop out of it. Gulping large volumes of air with each breath, he tried to thump down his thundering heart that was straining to provide enough blood to his larger than life body.

"That was a close one." He muttered in relief as he wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead with his meaty hand. He was afraid to think of what might have happened if his freak of nephew really waked up. He shuddered; strange and dangerous things that he dare not mention happened to people who had provoked this boy.

And since he was in no mood to become his latest victim, he wanted this over as soon as possible. So hastily picking up the bag, he made a beeline for the stream. And when he reached there…

"Freedom," he cried out in joy as he stood at the bank, careful not to fall, and looked down at the fast running water of narrow looking stream. Not wanting to waste any more time, he hefted the boy in the bag and with a big splash, threw it into the shallow water of this raging stream.

"Goodbye freak!" He waved his hands with a childish enthusiasm. Relief washed away over his body, when the sight of the boy disappeared immediately under the running water. Then as though remembering something, he rummaged into his breast pocket and brought out a broken spectacle.

"And take this memento with you!" And then, threw that too.

He felt really euphoric at this moment. Chest bloated with happiness, he felt like dancing around like a peacock to celebrate this moment. Even the tiredness and fatigue of carrying the questionable bag for all this time had mysteriously disappeared. Oh the joy cruising in his veins, it was indescribable. He felt jumping up in delight. Finally, he had gotten rid of the pest that had infested his humble abode for last nine years. Right now, it was time for celebrations.

"Ah, almost forgot!" He stated and from his side pocket, brought out some kind of small, palm sized electronic device. Clicking the sole button on the middle of it, he watched as a tiny led light at its top blinked red while emitting a beeping sound. Then he threw that too in the water as he was instructed.

And then, getting impatient to break this wonderful news to his wife, with a visible spring on his steps Vernon Dursley basically skipped on his way back to his car; whistling jauntily all the way.

XXx

"Petunia!" a very happy Vernon Dursley rapped on the door of the car. "Petunia!" he again called out, a bit louder.

"How the hell she fell asleep this soon!" Vernon mused out loud in a confused voice, whilst fumbling for his torch.

"Oh, maybe that's because she has decided to leave this world." An utterly unexpected soft whisper chillingly spoke in his air, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Absolutely psyched out, he shrieked like a whiny little girl and fell back on his flabby behind.

"Hello… dear Uncle!" His nephew greeted him, widely grinning like a certain clown faced maniac from the fictional city of Gotham.

Seeing his supposedly taken care of nephew, Vernon wasn't surprised in the least. He knew that it all felt too easy. He knew that something didn't felt right. And he knew that he shouldn't have listened to that federal looking bastard, who promised him rather fat wads of money for this work.

And now, because of one impulsive mistake, he knew he was a dead meat.

"It… it wasn't me… it wasn't me, Harry. It wasn't my plan… they… those military friends of my friend came and offered me money… shit load of money… they… they said, they won't kill you… said that they have some kind of research going on and they…AARRGGHHH…" The blabbering and stuttering mess of a man suddenly cried out in agony as courtesy of unseen blades of magic, all that remained of his hands were bloody stumps that was spouting streams of blood like a merry water fountain in a theme park.

Meanwhile, Harry shook his head at the slobbering fool at his feet and kicked him to create a respectable distance between them. Last thing he wanted right now in his current stated of mood was stain of blood on his body – which was devoid of any clothes at the moment. His uncle, too greedy to even part with a rag tag pair clothes of his Duddykins.

Or maybe he just didn't want him to have anything that belonged to Dursley family.

"Drug, really! I expected better from you, Vernon." Harry spoke in a disappointed tone. He then casually bent down to pick a small flower in his hands and began to slowly pluck at its petals one by one, all the while keeping a disapproving looking gaze on his now disabled uncle.

"When I first beat the shit out of Dudley for the stunt he pulled on me, and then healed him so that I can again torture him to madness," pausing there, he plucked another petal and continued, "I thought you will do something epic in the false hope of avenging your Douchely."

Vernon, who was having difficulty to form coherent words because of the agonizing pain originating from where his arms used to be, tried to speak, "Please… please, I beg you!... Spare me! This will never happen again. I promise you!" He began to cry.

If mercy was what Vernon had hoped for, he must have felt really down when instead of doing as he had pleaded, Harry began to laugh out loud in hollow mirth. "Oh boy, that was ridiculous!" the naked boy stated deliriously. Stepping closer, he looked at the ugly, tears splotched face of Vernon and scoffed.

Then inhaling and exhaling loudly, he leaned a bit forward and lifting his hand with the flower that had few of its petals plucked off in front of him, he asked, "Anyway, tell me Vernon, what is this?"

Puzzled by his question, Vernon tried to assert a bit of control on his pitiful sobs and because of the darkness, squinted his eyes to get a better view of whatever the boy was showing.

"It's… it looks like…" suddenly a heavy lead like feeling settled into his stomach as he realized what had happened.

"PETUNIA!" he screamed out and tried to lunge at Harry, his pain forgotten. "I WILL KILL YOU DEVIL SPAWN!" He cried out in absolute boiling rage. He didn't care he was now handless, he didn't care he could not punch the teeth out; he just wanted to hit him, and in his vengeful mind, he was sure that the legs will do fine.

But unfortunately for Vernon, his nephew acted faster. Casting a blasting spell, Harry blew away the only remaining limbs of his uncle in a shower of blood and gore.

"Not so fast, Vernon." Harry said with a touch of cynicism in his voice. "After all, there is something I have to tell you."

Making sure that he has got the full attention of the now totally disabled man – who was writhing from pain on the ground, he said in a lackadaisical manner, "Remember the body bag you threw back there. Because … by now… I believe Vernon Jr. has left us, courtesy of you throwing him down in river back there."

Having said what he had to say, Harry ignored the sudden howling of his uncle and got rid of his 'aunt' by throwing it upon the bloody figure of Vernon. Then scoffing at their pitiful state, he lifted his right hand in front of him and chanted one of the most powerful spells he knew, "Fiendfyre!"

Beads of sweat trailed down from his temple as a gargantuan torrent of blazing hot fire came into existence in front of his extended hand. Taking the shape of some kind of serpent like beast, the sentient like flaming hell monster spearheaded towards the wildly shrilling figure of the limbless man and his transfigured wife – and when it went away, nothing but charred and blackened ground remained, wafting off smoke that smelled of brimstone and sulphur.

XXx

**Sometimes Later**

'An excellent control of Fiendfyre you displayed back there.' A cold and clear, disembodied voice of a man rang inside his mind.

"Shut up, Tommy!" Harry though, eloquently remarked back in annoyance.

'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT, YOU INSOLENT FOOL!'

"Whatever."

'What… WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY WHATEVER?'

"Tch… If you haven't NOTICED by now, I am without my glasses and my body is devoid of any clothes. And to top it all, I am trying to navigate my way through whatever this shithole of a place my dear uncle has stranded me in, in this blasted darkness. So, keep your childish rant down, you slimy bastard."

But instead of quieting down…

'Childish rant… a childish rant… you think this is what it is, a mere childish rant. Preposterous! ... Don't forget that I was the one who taught you all this. I was the one…'

Enough was enough for Harry.

"You are nothing more than a mere shade with maybe some useful bit of memories. And don't give me that jack-shit about you teaching me everything. Because last time I checked, involuntarily sharing memories with the host soul doesn't count as teaching."

'You… YOU…

The affronted parasitic soul was about to respond in kind when suddenly, a new voice was registered by their ears.

"Afflicted by the stain of an immortal snake, and the child touched by death… Harry Potter, I found you." as the powerful voice full of disdain that belonged to neither of them cut through their senseless banter like a hot knife going through the butter, both Harry and the disembodied voice of Voldemort went eerily silent, not because they were surprised, but because the world as they knew – changed.

'Wha… What's this?' Harry asked to himself in extreme anxiety. What was this unnatural feeling coursing through him? What was this supernatural force weighing heavy on his shoulder? Why all of a sudden, was he feeling so insignificant in the grand scale of things? And why couldn't he speak?

The pair, who was bickering like spoilt children a moment ago, now could not even gather the strength to utter out a word verbally; their tongues were stuck to the roof of their mouth. Even, the ever present annoying snake like voice on his head – was oddly silent. It was like their ability to speak was suddenly taken away by some higher power.

Then involuntarily, Harry felt himself going down to his knee on the ground, breathing laboriously. He felt his eyes droop heavily as the energy in his body sapped out like water from the squeezed sponge. Sweat dripped down to the ground from the tip of his nose as he leaned forward with his hands against the ground – even kneeling was getting difficult.

'The hell!' he screamed in his mind rebelliously. He was not going to go down like this. This was not the way had envisioned himself going out. Heck, he had not even thought of going out yet. Thus he should… no must do something against this, he thought vehemently. After all, the idea of saying hello to his uncle and aunt in the other side of planar existence, after just sending them there did not seemed like a particularly lovable idea.

Fighting against the waves of extreme lethargy his body was swimming in, he tried to stand up – which was easier said than done. Placing his hands on his knee for support, he huffed in exhaustion. 'Nearly there.' Closing his eyes, he clenched his teeth tightly to mask the scream that his throat was producing, and then, forced his body to stand up straight. And as he opened his eyes, he nearly went down on his knees again due to all the swirl of colors that bombarded his sight because of the exertion he had put upon himself.

Casting a heavy gaze at the glittering figure of someone standing in front of him, Harry blinked several times to drive away the haze that had annoyingly filled his vision.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked in an antsy voice as he waited for the world around him to come into proper focus.

"Forgive me for the discomfort you must be experiencing. I am still not used to the change in myself." Harry heard the person in front of say. Was he genuinely sincere on his apology, he couldn't tell. Harry quietly breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his normal vision reasserting itself. It was still far from perfect due to his poor eyesight, but now, it was at least manageable.

Trying his best to not show his discomfort lest he exhibit weakness in his stance at the front of possible enemy, he snarkily said, "But that doesn't tell me who you are! And how do you know me?"

Call him a bastard, but he wasn't going to act all friendly with someone he had just met in a middle of a dark forest. And there was also the fact that the silence of the otherwise annoyingly talkative parasite residing on his soul was making him jittery and paranoid.

"Ah, yes, I apologize once again, Harry." This time, Harry could tell that the boy in front of him was sincere.

"I am Gilgamesh." The proclamation was very… basic and bland, said in a manner as though the speaker expected others to already know about him.

In cue, Harry directed a flat stare at the fuzzy figure of the boy standing in front of him. "I don't know anyone named Gilgamesh."

A brief pause, then a soft humorous laughter rang in Harry's ear. Then he heard the figure in front of him say, "Oh my, I can only imagine what my older self must have done after hearing those words. But fortunately for you, I am anything but like my older self."

Hearing his cryptic talk, Harry's restraint finally wore off. "Look, I don't know who you are or what you want, but right now, if this talk goes any further like this, you will have a very angry me to deal with." He said the latter in a dangerous tone.

At first, there was no response. Then Harry heard a sigh, "I understand that you are getting impatient with this development, Harry. But you should also understand that I mean you no immediate harm. And also that, what I have to say must be heard by only you, and no one else."

And before Harry could refute that claim by saying there are only two of them, he suddenly got aware of the presence of the boy – who was a few meter away from him a blink ago – a mere hand away from him. "And there is an unnecessary fourth wheel present at this moment… so let me... remedy that."

And that was when Harry's world exploded into soul crushing agony.

Originating from the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, it was so excruciatingly painful; it surpassed even the legendary Cruciatus curse. Every fiber, every muscle, and every bone in his body felt like they were crushed and rejoined in a most painful of ways, countless times a second. He didn't even know if he was screaming hoarsely, or just opening his mouth in a silent scream. He felt like he was dying. Everything was filled in an incomprehensible haze.

And then, above all this, he heard an ear splitting disembodied unearthly scream. Unknown to him, the scar on his forehead opened up by itself and from it, copious amount of black ichor began to leak out. And with it came, the scarcely believable more pain. He felt his soul literally fracturing.

And suddenly, abruptly, just like it had started, the hellish pain suddenly stopped.

With a quiet thud, Harry fell down to the ground in a heap like an empty sac, his body abnormally spasming all over in phantom pain. His eyes were open wide, but the only thing he could see was deep black curtain of darkness that spread over to eternity. Drool was leaking out from the side of his mouth as his body did odd twitching motions in irregular interval.

Faintly, he felt someone pressing something cold against his lips. After that, he became aware of a bitter tasting liquid rushing by his throat. Though it was bitter, he lapped onto it like a man whose thirst was unquenched for years, because to him, it gave him something other to distract his mind with from the pain. And good thing he did, because unknown to him, the fluid he was being forced to drink was one of the most powerful healing potion from the ancient times.

And soon, Harry too began to experience its magical effects.

Harry opened his eyes slowly when the ache on his body finally left him, replaced by a pleasant and soothing sensation flowing through his veins. As his senses began to kick around once again, he felt a bit different, slightly empowered he would say. Not much, but still worth a notice. But the biggest difference that he noticed immediately was his mind felt clearer than ever. It felt devoid of the heavy restriction he hadn't even noticed before.

And with his restriction free mind, Harry was able to quickly recall about the torturous ordeal he had gone through few moments ago. Without any prior notice, his mouth twisted into a vicious snarl and quickly getting up from the ground, he lunged towards the boy who was the cause of that horrible ordeal. How dare he make him endure all that? He will pay for this, he thought.

And as he neared the cause of his vexation, for the first time, in midflight, he took notice of Gilgamesh's appearance. Height comparable to his, the boy looked like he was a spawn of highly aristocratic family with his elegant white shirt and immaculate black pants. And to boost that image even further was his slicked back golden blonde hair and jewelry of gold littering around various part of his body.

And suddenly, in the process of noting all this, he also realized something else. 'Holy mother of god, I can see!' Yes, he could see – see in perfect clarity without the any need of his obscene glasses.

"Hell yeah!" he screamed in ecstatic excitement as he landed a solid punch on the gut of the blonde boy. But unfortunately for him, all that excitement and anger abruptly vaporized away when he noticed that his punch didn't even budge Gilgamesh a little.

'Shit!' he thought. Gulping, he slowly moved his gaze up. Seeing the wine like blood red eyes staring down impassively at him, he barely suppressed his wince. He had put all his strength behind that punch, and instead of Gilgamesh keeling over in pain, he was the one who had to mask the painfully throbbing fist.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" A little surprised by Gilgamesh's action, Harry remained silent. He had assumed that the blonde boy would retaliate in some kind. But, the only thing he did was ask that question – which was more like a statement – and calmly push the young magus' hand away from him.

"To be free from the parasite in your soul, to be in control of your body once again, it feels good, doesn't it, Harry?" Capitulating on Harry's silence, Gilgamesh again asked with oddly anguish filled in his voice. Harry couldn't tell why, but for some reason, at that small moment, Gilgamesh's youthful face looked melancholic – like that of an old war veteran recounting the tales of his bravery.

And then, Harry realized what had just transpired. The stranger, Gilgamesh had somehow freed him from the disease like parasite that had afflicted him since his birth. While he may somewhat agree that the parasite was beneficial too – as it had helped in jump starting his magical abilities in many fields with handily available memories – he will always stick by the theory that it did more harm than benefit for him; those long sleepless nights for example.

"Yeah, it does." He agreed. It honestly felt really good. Clenching his fists to test them, he marveled at his power flowing fluidly underneath his skin. The sense of lightness coursing through his body, he felt like he could take anyone right now. And it was all thanks to the kind looking boy in front of him.

Then he asked, "But why?" The curiosity that was laced deeply in this question was not unnoticeable.

"For my freedom," Gilgamesh replied in short.

"I don't understand," Puzzled, Harry said. "Can you be a little less cryptic?"

Gilgamesh gave a soft smile at that. "All will be explained in due time, Harry. But for now…"

Harry's eyes then promptly widened wide in surprise and then, he rolled sideways to get away from the wide horizontal slash from a long rapier like sword that could have seriously injured him.

"…Let's dance." Gilgamesh finished monotonously.

"You sniveling chameleon bastard!" Straightening up few steps away from the blonde haired mysterious youth, Harry angrily called out.

"Chameleon… Why?" Gilgamesh raised his one eyebrow as he followed up on his assault with a reverse slash.

Adrenaline flooding through his body, Harry jumped back from that hastily. Then having heard the enquiry, he scoffed and bitingly said, "Are you that stupid?"

In cue, an eye twitch and sudden increase in intensity of sword slashes.

"Fair enough!" And with that said the blonde youth produced a second sword from bolt out of blue and grasping it with his free hand, dashed towards the young magus.

"What the hell! From where are these swords coming from!" Harry exclaimed out in vexation. But not wanting to lose his cool, literally, he channeled a reasonable amount of magic in his hands and loudly chanted, "Glacius!"

All of sudden, the air temperature around them plummeted down to subzero level as from the tips of his outstretched fingers of both hands, an enormous and formless mass of frigid ice coalesced into the path of incoming Gilgamesh. Entrapping him from all side, it tried to cage him quickly. But soon, young Gilgamesh burst out of the icy cage with no sign of struggle and swiftly closed the distance between them, not giving a chance to cast further.

"Good application, but not enough to stop me." The sword wielding blonde youth said as he brought down his sword in cross manner. With how fast it all happened, to any onlooker, it was clear that Harry was at his mercy now.

*Clang*

But Harry had other ideas. Struggling to hold off the force exerted by Gilgamesh two swords, he grunted as his hands shook while holding the conjured sword of steel.

Grinning widely like a maniac, Harry rasped out, "You are not the only one who can pull a blade out of nowhere, blondy."

Shaking his head in amusement, Gilgamesh said, "It seems so. But can you guarantee its durability in front of not one, but two legendary blades?"

"Pssh, what legendary…"

*Crack*

"…"

"…"

"Oh shit."

*CRACK*

Like a fragile glass, the long conjured broadsword shattered into millions of pieces as it was unable to match the might of the two aforementioned legendary blades. They maybe nameless, but because of their legendary origin, these swords still ranked far higher than any modern swords in terms of quality. So a sword – that too a conjured one with weak constituents had no chance of standing against them.

Harry breathed raggedly as he felt both sides of his neck stinging. His eyes widened to their utmost limit, moved down in its futile attempt to trace the line of blood he felt trickling down his front torso. His heart thumping against his ribs, he moved his gaze back to the impassive face of the golden blonde.

"Why?" he asked quietly. Getting that close to death, suddenly all pretenses and dramatics was gone from his attitude, showing a glimpse of his raw, real emotions.

"…"

His shoulder shook in barely hold restraint as any reply came. Who is this guy really, he thought. What did he want from me, and what is the purpose of all this nonsense, he thought more.

"I said why you are doing this?" he defiantly looked at Gilgamesh, anger blazing on his young face.

Seeing this, Gilgamesh stared hard at him for few moments. The closing his eyes, he slowly opened them as he shook his head slowly. "Unfortunately Harry, you are still naïve." And then, he retracted his blades and stepped back.

Bristling at the naïve comment, Harry was about to retort back when…

*Squelch* *Squelch*

…words abruptly died down in his mouth. Instead of slighting remark as he had intended, he felt blood slowly seeping out of his oral cavity. Stupefied, he slowly moved down his head to see two swords, one each going through his belly and chest. He fell down on his knees.

"Sorry for that, Harry. I really thought you were the one to free me. But in this short confrontation, I have realized that I acted too soon. In my impatience, I lost one of the easiest chances for my freedom and unfortunately, it is you who have to pray the price. Trust me; I am really sorry for doing this."

And as he said this, dozens of golden ripples began to appear behind him. Casting a vivid golden glow to the night environment around them, they glowed and pulsed ominously as from them; same numbers of blades of all shape and size began to surface. And their purpose was not lost to Harry.

"Fiendfyre." Harry mumbled weakly as he stretched his hand in front of him. A faint spark that fanned away some dried leaves and nothing else. Seeing this, he felt his body go numb. Never had he felt hopelessness this strong. His will to live dimmed drastically, he teetered on the edge.

Then he saw it. Dozens upon dozens of blade creeping painfully slow towards him. Why has the time slowed down? He wondered. His hands fell helplessly beside him as he waited for his imminent death. 'Heh … death. It doesn't even sound that dangerous, does it?' he felt his lips twisting up foolishly.

And all the while, the soon to be cause or causes of his death crept closer. And then, that was when, on the virtual grinning face of gruesome death, he heard a distant disembodied voice faintly echoing in his ears.

'… neither can live while the other survives.'

*Clang* *Clang* *Clang* *Clang* *Clang* *Clang* *Clang* *Clang*

Gilgamesh face adorned a small frown as he stopped the barrage of blades raining down upon Harry. Blinking furiously, he tried to peer through the thick cloud of dust in front of him. 'Was it successful?' he tensely thought. After all, it was the moment of realization. If he failed now, his chances were extremely bleak. He was getting impatient to see the result of his handiwork.

Then he smirked.

As the cloud of dust settled down, he was very pleased to see the results. Numerous blades lied scattered all around the ground, littered careless like unnecessary toys. But it was not these blades, his treasures that were holding his interest. It was the being crouched in the middle of all this carnage that made him want jump in glee.

Shielded by two sets of bat like skeletal ashen wings that sprouted from his back – was the crouched figure of a bleached haired boy, covered in a tattered black robe. Looking closely, he noticed that there seemed to be some kind of ethereal poisonous purple glow emanating from his overall body, which gave him a very dreary and dangerous vibe.

'So the child touched by death truly awakens.' Gilgamesh thought in ecstasy.

Decades ago, when Angra Mainyu had refused to let go of its slimy hold on his body, his elder self was locked in a vicious mental battle with it in the eternal voids of Holy Grail. Years later, fed up by it, he had to resort to drinking the Potion of Youth to revert back into his younger and current self to gain a semblance of control over his own body, possible due to the innocence of the younger age.

Somehow, stumbling in this world, for many years he had searched for a solution to end his misery. But this world was weak. No one could match his divinity. And his countless weapons would not harm their master. So helpless and hands tied, he had travelled the world. And that was when he found a glimmer of hope.

Roughly 10 years ago, for the first time, he had felt a spark of divine energy. Not just an ordinary divine energy, but the energy of true Death, the one from the Seventh Seal. Since seeking Death himself was not an option, as he did not wanted to get sealed forever but there was a next best option.

For reasons unknown, Death had found it suitable to bless an infant with a portion of his infinite powers. The cause was unknown, but after closer inspection, he had deduced that it was closely related with something to do with Fate.

But leaving these unnecessary things aside, he had closely followed the boy. It was then under his close scrutiny that he had also gotten aware of the parasite residing on his soul, leeching off him, restricting him from living up to his full potential. And though were enemies, their soul and fate were intertwined so greatly, it was unfathomable.

Fate had made it so that no matter what, they were basically immortals. Nobody could kill them, besides themselves. If someone does try, only failure would have been the result. Fate herself would have intervened every time to prevent their untimely demise. And he had some inkling that the powers of Death bestowed upon him as the ultimate failsafe.

And his plan to trigger that failsafe had been successful, he rejoiced.

*Rip* *Squelch* *Tear*

In a sound of muscles being horrendously ripped apart, Gilgamesh suddenly found himself dangling by multiple bony wings like appendages, which went through him fatally. And in spite of the excruciating pain suddenly making itself known in his now limp body, he smiled.

'Enkidu, finally, after all this time, our time for reunion has come,' he wistfully thought. Wandering like a wounded dog that was scavenging for a piece of meal, he had come to realize that it was not the worldly pleasures that enticed him. It was not the most beautiful of treasures that caught his interest, nor was he interested in collecting them.

It was just that all this time, he was looking for way to make him forget about his truest of friend. Searching painstakingly for that familiar brilliance in those countless treasures he collected, and finding none. Absence had made the heart grow fonder. And with each passing moment he had become more desperate for that beautiful reunion with his wronged friend. And now, when the time was finally here, he felt a sense of calm serenity washing through him.

*Rip*

Tears of pain and happiness mixed, and rolled down his cheeks when he heard the scream of Angra Mainyu ringing in his ears, while vehemently trying to escape from its inevitable demise. Blearily looking down at the ashen white pale hands going through his chest and crushing his tainted heart, he felt his life slipping away.

Then in an act that greatly contradicted any sense of normality of the current situation, he casted a deeply grateful gaze down at the blood streaked emotionless face of the young magus, and breathily said, "Harry Potter… you are a King now… *cough* *cough* *cough*… do take care of my garden… *cough*… and its treasure..." And with this, the great Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes breathed his last breath and closed his eyes.

And as for Harry, with the danger seemingly gone, the ethereal purple glow receded back into him as his powers dwindled away and then, he too slumped down.

**A/n: As you have seen, I have changed a few things around. For example, I gave Harry the Power of Death at the beginning. In the original one, I was planning to give it to him later, but here, I decided against it. **

***The other thing I changed is that I played around a little with Gilgamesh's story. Gilgamesh as a character is very badass and one of personal favorites. So I thought that he deserves a bit of more screen time and plot than just some fight and slash and finish. I hope you all agree with this.**

****Another thing you might be wondering is about that line in prophecy. I know that I made up the fact that they can only be killed by each other, but if you look closely at the canon, there are multiple instances, where this theory fit very nicely. It doesn't mean that this theory is true, but just for this story, it is.**

*****The pairing will be same. HarryxLucy from Elfen Lied. And NO ONE ELSE. This is not a harem. I repeat, this is not a harem. **

**So till next time, Bye! **


	2. Life Begins Anew

**A/n: Hello there, readers! Here is the latest chapter of this story. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing proprietary is mine.**

**Chapter 2 – Life Begins Anew**

**Unknown Location**

In a vast stretch of foggy whiteness, which stretched to forever and beyond, a petite, violet haired girl was seen standing with a rather cute looking expression in her face. You see, this girl was not exactly a girl in truth. In fact, unlike her tiny height and demure physique may suggest she was an incredibly powerful Demigoddess, Pandora. She was the legendary All Knowing Goddess, and wife of the Titan Epimetheus.

In a distant past, she, in collaboration with her husband, had introduced a powerful ritual that cursed – or blessed, it's the matter of perspective – an individual with the responsibility of bearing the divine powers of any god he or she had slayed, at the expense of his or her life; resulting in birth of a venerable supernatural being known as God Slayer, or Campione in general.

These Campiones, the supposed bastard children of her and her husband, Epimetheus, were a literal force of nature. Because of this ritual, from a mere mortal with absurd amount of luck and skill, they would become warriors of such powers that even gods would think twice before engaging in a battle against them; after all the name God Slayer was not just for decoration, they really held the power to slay a god with the 'acquired' divine Authorities – which was a set of skillset attributed to a god.

And to put the cherry on top; they could add even more varieties of Authorities to their repertoire of ever increasing quirks unlike normal gods by the act of slaying more gods and stealing it from them as a victory trophy: A Devil King indeed.

And now, after many years, it was time for them to again welcome another one of their brethren in their ranks. Because the Seventh Campione, Harry James Potter was about to grace the world with his might.

Xxx

"Ugh, what the hell hit me?" Harry tiredly groaned as he groggily opened his emerald green eyes. Rubbing his temple in an attempt to soothe the ghost of a lingering headache, he blinked for few times while his vision adjusted to the sudden influx of bright sunlight into his eyes, stinging mildly while it did so.

"Shrouded in darkness, born of a fool and witch…"

"What…" Harry eloquently asked when he heard a melodious voice speaking. Opening his eyes properly, he looked up from his lying position to see the figure of a very beautiful woman with violet – was that even natural – lock of hairs above him. Concentrating at her face, a lightning like jolt struck him when he saw her eyes. Those beautiful, clear green orbs were so similar to his; it felt like he was watching at his own reflection in a mirror.

"… A secret ritual of usurpation, only possible through the act of sacrificing a god… In short, all conditions have been met… Truly, a gift from heavens…"

"What are you talking about?" Harry again asked; confusion laced in every word of his question.

"To put it simply, the sacrificing of your life in order to slay Gilgamesh and Angra Mainyu, has succeeded." The woman above him smiled.

"What, I killed who? ... And who are you?"

"The All Knowing True Goddess, Pandora. And now, because of the black art I and Epimetheus created, you will be reborn as our illegitimate child; a Campione; a Devil King; a God Slayer."

And just as she finished: before he can speak anything, Harry felt the infinite foggy, white world rapidly fading away; taking along with it, the memories of his confrontation with Pandora.

Xxx

Within the real world, Harry snapped open his eyes and sat up with a violent jerk. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his face with his hands and shook his head lightly to shake off the lethargy.

*Crinkle* *crinkle*

Hearing the tinkling sound of some kind of metal ringing in his ears, he scrunched his face. "What the…" feeling some kind of jewelry article dangling harmlessly by his ear, he hastily reached for his other ear to find the same. Then feeling something tickling at his neck, he felt there to find an intricate piece there too.

"What the heck is this?" with his face morphed into an expression of puzzlement, he stood up on the grassy ground. Eyebrows arched upwards, eyes widened, lips silently parted, the puzzlement on his face slowly bled into amazement as he brought his hands upwards, in front of him. They were covered in a magnificent gauntlet made up of what looked like gold, with black runes like marking beautifully inscribed upon them.

Not only his hands, his entire body, from shoulder pads to chest plates, from tight shin pads to mean looking boots, everything was covered to complete the set of this beautiful yet powerful armor, with a black silk like cloth underneath it to cushion the hard surface of this Nobel metal. And to top it all, there was one regal looking red-colored cape like piece of cloth hanging behind him, flowing majestically in the superficial air.

Not only the armor, his body – now that he focused on it, it felt amazing. He marveled at the immense waves of power coursing through his body. Never, not even after when he had gotten free of Tom's parasitic soul, he had felt this good. It felt like his power, his magic was singing a joyous song of victory to him. And his blood, it was thrumming in conjunction with it in a manner vaguely reminiscent of someone dancing with a never ending energy to the said victory song.

Grinning like a loon in exhilaration, and wanting to test out his newfound empowerments, he flexed his right hand and straightened it in front of him, the golden armor shining brightly like an ember of fire from the reflected rays of morning sun. Gathering, previously unthinkable amount of power in his empowered hand, he uttered a single word. "Incendio!"

And the effect, it was so immediate and so unlike anything he have ever dreamed off, he yelled like a maniac as he was launched backwards from his standing spot like a rocket, when a gigantic torrent of white hot, liquid like fire propelled out from his hand. Smacking against a trunk of a tree, he cracked it viciously as it could not stop his momentum safely.

"Bloody hell, what was that?" Harry said with his eyes wide; no injury visible on him despite hitting the tree with the force of freight train, nor was he feeling the impact of it. In front of him, in what was once a thriving land full of green shrubbery, now there was nothing but a brutally burnt stretch of land, devoid of any greenery. It was like someone had come, and like a crazy lunatic, casted the cursed Fiendfyre after Fiendfyre magic for fun. And it all happened just with a simple and basic fire generating spell.

But the thing was that, it was not the result of his 'little' magic test that made him speak such colorful words. Now, he would wholeheartedly admit without a shame that not even in his deepest piece of daydreaming, he had ever thought of mastering the Incendio curse to make it this devastating, atleast not without a proper wizarding wand. But right now, what had grabbed his interest was the phenomenon that he had first noticed at that precise moment, when he was getting launched off backwards.

Numerous, maybe dozens even, familiar golden ripples and distortion in the mid-air had materialized behind him, and from them, untraceable streaks of gold had rained down upon the ground in front of him like exploding bullets. And that was something, he had not envisioned.

Getting up, he tried to retrace his movement from back there. If he was not incorrect, this was the same ability that the Blondie had displayed last night. Lifting his hand, he did the same thing he always did while trying to wield magic – he willed for it. He found this way better and trustier. Unlike those age-old wand movements and proper pronunciation of spells, he liked to focus more on the desired effects by imagining it at first and willing for the desired effect to take place. Even Tom had commended him in past for this, citing this as the major reason behind his prodigious wandless proficiency.

And it would seem that his method once again proved true, because just like before, dozens upon dozens of golden glass like ripples began to fill the morning sky, creating a scene that was really hypnotizing to look at. Concentrating a little more, he smiled as he was rewarded by the sight of veritable army of swords, axes, spears, lances, and anything that was pointy and sharp emerging out of these mini portals.

"As always, the power of a God Slayer is truly a sight to behold."

Immediately, the pair of green orbs, along with the army of blades suspended in air locked into the pair of black avian ones. The air around them suddenly saturated up to its creak by viscous killing intent, making the black ones dilate a little. A few tense seconds passed as the green pair tried to assess the black pair for any signs of antagonism. When nothing was found, and the deadlock was broken, the relief reflected in the black pair was clearly visible.

Or maybe the relief was because the army of pointy and deadly things behind him dispersed in powdery dust of gold.

"Greetings, Your Majesty! I am Fawkes. Please accept my deepest apology for interrupting you like this." Fawkes, the immortal firebird of legend trilled, his tone – respectful.

"You are a Phoenix." Harry said, his stance; observant. The bird in front of him was easily the most beautiful and majestic one he had ever laid his eyes on, in his short life. Covered in deep red plumes and flame like fiery orange feathers, Fawkes looked like he was a sentient flame given the shape of a bird. Harry could not help but compare the fiery bird to Fiendfyre. Surely, if there was an opposite of that dark curse, this must have been it.

"Indeed I am." The phoenix confirmed.

"And you can talk?" Harry somewhat deadpanned, his sentence being half question, and half statement. Listening to the mythical bird talking to him, he could not decide whether he should question his sanity or not. After all, birds are not supposed to talk human language, wasn't it?

Fawkes: perching upon a barren stone on the recently charred land, he made himself comfortable. "Ah, it is called the gift of True Speech. But, if I am not mistaken, God Slayers are also blessed with something similar."

Furrowing his eyebrows, instead of confirming the notion, asked back, "That is the second time I am hearing about this God Slayer thingy you are speaking off. What does that mean?"

"…"

"…"

Fawkes looked pointedly at him at that. "You don't know anything, do you?" he asked.

"Er… Know what?" Harry scratched his head.

After a moment of silence, Fawkes all of a sudden blanched. "How could I forget?" he self-chidingly trilled. "Has it already been such a long time that I have become prone to experience a little memory lapse like this?" He sounded disappointed with himself.

"Talk in English birdy. I am not following whatever you are saying" Harry impatiently spoke.

"Ah, I will explain everything to you in shortly, your majesty. After all, to assist a newborn God Slayer like you is my foremost duty." Fawkes puffed out his chest at that. "But before that, can you please humble this lowly phoenix and grace his ears with your name, your majesty?"

Seeing no reason not to, the green eyed boy said, "Harry James Potter."

And at that precise moment, the unthinkable happened. For the first time in the recorded history, maybe even in the all eternity and beyond that, the legendary firebird and symbol of light, phoenix fainted.

Xxx

When Fawkes finally gained consciousness, it didn't take much time to explain the situation to Harry. The phoenix explained everything he knew about a Campione; their strength, their weakness, the nature of their authorities, the reason of existence etc. etc. Not a single stone was left unturned.

"So, because of this, Pandora is a sort of adoptive mother to all the Campiones." Harry asked.

"Yes, you are correct, My King."

"Then doesn't it make her an enemy no. 1 amongst her brethren? I mean, she essentially gives birth to the destroyer of their kind."

"Yes, it does make her a subject of great hatred amongst the gods, who will like to condemn her for all eternity to the harshest part of hell for it. But Your Majesty, you must know that Goddess Pandora is not only the All Knowing Goddess; she is also known as the All Giving Goddess. So for her children, to give up trivial things like freedom is not a matter of big concern for her."

"I see." Harry said. But in truth, he did not. It did not made sense to him that someone would risk her life for some stray humans she had adopted. But he did not dwell on it much. "Anyway, it seems you have nothing but praiseful word for her." the ten year old God Slayer then said, smiling a little while he did so.

Fawkes closed his eyes and nodded in a wistful manner. "Ah, she is my creator after all."

"What, really?" Harry was surprised at that sudden revelation.

"Yes, she is the one who conceptualized me."

The vibe was nostalgia was coming off strong from Fawkes as he spoke those words. And being the keen one, sensing them, Harry folded his arms. "I sense a story coming," he shortly said.

Nodding slowly, Fawkes said, "Yes, there is." But then looking at Harry, it said in a praiseful tone, "You are sharp, and observant. Two of the most important attributes a God Slayer must possess."

Then without any further ado, Fawkes delved into his story, "Eons ago, Goddess Pandora possessed a powerful magical box, called Pandora box. Confined in its unrealistic depths were things unfathomable and unthinkable. But due to a childish mishap, she accidentally released the curse of All the World's Evil, which later went on to take the shape of Angra Mainyu," pinning Harry under his ancient avian gaze, "whose power is now for yours to command."

"The parasitic god inside Gilgamesh," Harry mumbled in distaste. It was the leper, who had caused Gilgamesh to suffer so much, the once Golden King of Heroes had to beg for his freedom; and the fiend, who died synonymously with Gilgamesh when he destroyed the corrupted heart of the Original King. And to be honest, it made him a little bit queasy on thinking that Angra Mainyu's power coursed inside him.

Nodding in agreement, Fawkes continued, "Because of the chaos that ensued following that incident, with heavy heart, Goddess Pandora once again opened the box, and from within it she took out the ember of hope. Envisioning the ancient firebird, Benu, she then created many phoenixes and gave them a task – to instill hope and happiness in the heart of the brave warriors fighting the ill effects of All the World's evil."

"And that was how you came into existence." Harry finished. Seeing the phoenix nod, Harry said, "Well that was fascinating thing to know about, but… uh… I don't think that a group of phoenixes could neutralize the wrath of an entire pantheon of gods by singing songs and filling their heart with happiness."

"No, that was never our duty. Goddess Pandora can take care of herself quite well. For example, while everyone knows that she resides in her personal dimension, Netherworld; nobody knows where it is situated. Even the newborn Campiones who briefly visits it has no recollection of their visit when they leave. And we must not forget that she is the All Knowing Goddess, she most probably has devised many ways to protect herself."

After that, a brief silence ensued upon these supernatural beings.

"So, a Devil King huh…" Harry mused out loud to break the silence.

"Yes, your majesty." Fawkes respectfully said. Then once again looking at Harry in an appraising manner, he said, "I must say you are handling this news quite well."

Harry snorted at that statement. "Well, with all the things I have experienced in my short life, I believe that it will take a lot more than forsaking humanity to really shut me up."

Fawkes did not know how to reply to that. For one hand, he was happy that the new King seemed quite capable, yet on the other hand, he was sad that a young boy like him have to take a responsibility as huge as this – even though the boy was the same boy who was destined to be something large somewhere near in future even if he wasn't a Campione.

So with their conversation seemingly finished, Fawkes craned up his neck and unfurling his flame like wings, he flapped them gently to rise up in the air. Floating mid-air, he said, "I must say that it was an enlightening experience to talk with you, Your Majesty. But I fear that my partner, Albus is calling for my assistance. So farewell till we meet again." And with that said, he flashed away in a flurry of mini-firestorm.

"Eh… and I thought the old sport is all seriousness and no style." Harry flippantly commented as he plucked the single, deep red feather out from the air before it could touch the ground.

Xxx

**Few Days Later**

A soft cold breeze washed against his face as he stood upon the tallest telephone tower of the little town of Little Whinging. The complexion of his face hidden by the mysterious veil of shadow, his emerald green eyes smoldered brightly in this dark moonless night. Suddenly, the eyes glowed brighter as a pulse of magic leapt out from his body, denting the metal beneath his feet.

And he sang:

"Sorrow is my strength, and hatred is my sword,

For vengeance I weep, yet the rivers of ichor flow small,

But upon this muddy heaven, I shall stand above,

Thus, watch the chaos take birth, as the misery burns them all."

And as these powerful aria left his mouth, the sky which was already dark, grew even darker as from all around the horizon, dark clouds began to saturate it, responding to the divine event taking place. Whispers of sorrow, pitiful moans of pain, the agonizing sound of misery, and all the things that were sinful, formed an awful orchestra of chaos whilst a dark murky substance began to coalesce in front of Harry. Forming thousands of tiny black cubes, they merged together to form what looked like briefcase.

The briefcase in itself was unlike any briefcase that existed. From the miniature cracks present in it due to the ever moving pieces of small cubes, a deep golden glow was coming off, which contrasted heavily with the inky blue glow coming off from the skull mark in the middle of the bag.

And with this, Harry completed the activation of his second authority, Calamitous Ordnance.

Lifting the bag in front of him, Harry intoned in an emotionless voice, "Hatred."

And as though responding to his voice, the eyes on the skull mark began to glow and in a matter of moments, the building blocks – the small cubes – rearranged to form a mean looking bazooka. Setting it on his shoulder, Harry looked through the crosshair and locked on to a sign board, which said 'Number 4'. Lifting his aim a little, Harry locked onto a nondescript looking house, which looked similar to the house adjacent to it, which also looked like the house adjacent to it, and which itself again looked like the house adjacent to it. In fact, the whole community was filled with same looking house.

"Oh boy, if I hadn't lived in that pigsty for all these years, the body count would have probably risen." Harry laughed in dry humor. And then, not wanting to waste any more time, he clicked the trigger.

*Whoosh*

With a sound of air being pierced apart, the magical rocket bomb whistled loudly through the air as it speared its way towards it assigned target. Reaching its target in matter of seconds, the rocket bomb detonated with the power of half a dozen blasting hex, destroying the house in resulting blast and at the same time – lighting up a part of the sky with an orange haze.

And despondently watching all this, his green eyes tinted with deep orange of the blazing fire, Harry Potter felt a sense of satisfaction flow through him. People will definitely tag him as monster for doing what he just did, but he rarely let that affect him and his decisions before, and right now, he could see no reason to suddenly change now. Here, the Dursleys created their own hell and he was the devil that was born in it. He was no saint, nor an angel, and he was not going to pretend he was.

"If one lives with hatred in his life, he will die because of it." Harry said whilst his body began to break down into millions of glittering golden particles, "Sad that you lot could not understand it though." And with that said, the figure of Harry Potter, the Seventh Campione faded away into the darkness of night.

**A/n: So, it was nothing more than an explanatory chapter in general. The real plot will move from next chapter. Maybe Lucy will make her appearance too.**

***Authorities of Harry:**

**Gate of Babylon: **

Acquired from Gilgamesh**, **it is an ancient dark red, key-shaped short sword that connects to the "Golden Capital", the treasury of Gilgamesh, allowing the user to easily access its contents. It connects the space of reality to the vault, opening an invisible door that allows for the contents to pass through upon the user's command. The items that pass through the gate form ripples in the empty air as they appear. Also grants an invisible passage for Harry to travel through to any part of the realm.

**Aria for activation: **

None.

**Condition for use: **

Like Gilgamesh, this authority has the aura of supremacy-above-all ingrained into it. To show off this superiority, it always remains in a passively activated state, negating the need to chant an aria. While this helps Harry to instantly use this authority, it taxes on Harry's magic to always keep it active. But since, Campiones have very large reserves of magic and considering the low amount of magic the Gate of Babylon takes to remain activated, this fact can be ignored without any harm until Harry activates another one of his authority. If he activates another authority, then he must be careful of the magic expenditure and amount of time he is activating it, as supporting two authorities to function at the same time for long can be detrimental for him, when Gate of Babylon is actively interfering to make Harry expend more magic than necessary.

**Calamitous Ordnance: **

Acquired from Angra Mainyu, this authority grants Harry a weapon of mass destruction, which is capable of transforming into 666 devastating forms, with each form simulating a specific evil. Resembles a box made up of ever moving small cubes with a skull mark in the center of box in its basic and most dormant form.

**Aria for activation: **

Sorrow is my strength, and hatred is my sword,

For vengeance I weep, yet the rivers of ichor flow small,

But upon this muddy heaven, I shall stand above,

Thus, watch the chaos take birth, as the misery burns them all.

**Condition for use:**

Paying homage to Angra Mainyu, this authority can only be activated when Harry has intense desire to do something evil. Harry must strive for it to happen, and yearn for the dark event to take place. Without it, this authority will not work properly, and can even harm Harry.

****I am really sorry to say that because of a thing called college, my update frequency has taken a massive hit. So, I request you guys to be a little more patient. Thanks in advance.**

*****And read & review guys. It will certainly boost my morale, lol. And yeah, meaningless flames will be blissfully ignored. **


	3. The Janitor

**A/N: Hello guys! What's up! Enjoy the new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Campione and anything legal.**

**Chapter 3 – The Janitor**

**Somewhere in Northern Ireland**

He ran. No matter how out of breath he was, he ran. Without looking back, and without taking a glance to his side, he ran; and ran with all his might.

He could feel his lungs burning painfully inside his chest. It felt like someone had poured a boiling glass of acid upon it, which was eating away the spongy flesh of his respiratory organ at a pace of snail, tormenting him further. His limbs, it felt like someone had pumped a ton of lead into them; willing them to move for that one more important step further was a task that was proving too difficult for his tastes.

He was very much aware of this frightening reality that he had ran out of fuels and was probably running on fumes. But the desire to live on in this place of existence that ran deep inside every mortal of this world, it was making him do the impossible.

His body felt like it was about to drop dead in utter exhaustion, and his mind was screaming at him to stop and take a rest for some while. But his heart wouldn't let him do it. It was fearful. It was afraid. And it wanted to be far away from the source of this traumatizing fear. Because it knew, another encounter with that terrifying devil will make it stop permanently.

He did not know how far he had travelled. Without his trusty wand in his hand, he was unable to apparate, and with no alternative measure available in hand, he had decided to put his legs into use. The crescent moon hanging in the sky was giving him adequate light to illuminate his difficult path. Now all that left to do was – to reach at his destination.

Xxx

With a loud and rankling noise of old rusty steel rubbing against each other, the huge metal gates opened as a small fleshy creature of knee height, a house-elf opened it.

"Master Avery! Why is you…"

"Shut the fuck up, you bloody idiot!" The pale and ragged face of Avery twisted into a vicious snarl as he kicked the harmless creature, making it squeak loudly in pain. "And take me to Greengrass." He ordered.

The poor elf, helpless to do anything other than take commands, nodded. Taking the rather large hand of the human being, which was very much larger than its in comparison, it suppressed the desire to question about the dried blood covering his hand and teleported.

With the loud cracking sound of air particles displacing too fast from its place, the unlikely pair then appeared in front of what seemed like some kind of meeting. Immediately, three very surprised pair of eyes locked into them.

"Greengrass!" Immediately, Avery let go of his hold with the elf and dashed towards the patriarch of the house. Stopping in front of a tall, broad shouldered man sporting a sleeked-back shiny blonde hair and dressed in finest of silks; he looked around wildly in the room with fear in his eyes, much to the confusion of the every one standing in the room.

"Greengrass, you have to save me," he frantically said. "I beg you, Greengrass. Please … Please, save me!" he then finally lost it and began to sob piteously, kneeling down in front of the Master of the Greengrass House.

"Avery," the frigid voice pierced the kneeling body of the ragged and exhausted man with its cold spear tip as Peneus Greengrass, the patriarch of Greengrass family addressed him. In his mind, by crashing into a very important event without any prior notice and that too in this kind of state, if Avery was expecting a helping hand from the man in whose house he had just crashed in unannounced, he was dreadfully wrong.

"You would have noticed by now that I am in a rather important meeting with Lucius here," he waved his hand towards a very handsome and aristocratic looking man standing behind him, "which demands my utmost attention. So you pray that…"

"Screw your stupid meeting, Greengrass!" Avery snapped. "You do not understand anything! That monster… it… it crushed dozens of fully grown adult wizards… and several packs of werewolves in a blink of an eye. No matter what we did, it kept coming…" he was getting hysterical.

"Bloody hell, Avery!" getting tired of what he thought was nothing more than another stupid drama of a clearly mad man, Peneus shouted. His temper flaring visibly, he expertly whipped out his wand from his holster and pointed it to the downed man.

"I will not tolerate this any longer…*squelch* …" his words died down in his mouth as all of a sudden, the head of Avery exploded, covering his once immaculate face with blood and gore. His black ceremonial wizard robes, they too were inflicted with the same fate.

His mind froze. The universal flow of time seemed like it had slowed down as he watched the headless body topple over by itself like an empty sack. From his peripheral, he saw the third member of this meeting, the goblin official from Gringotts fleeing away.

'Coward,' he thought spitefully.

Then a gust of wind, and he felt someone standing beside him.

And then, all he did was bring up his wand to cast a spell in defense when all of a sudden, his chest exploded in hellish pain. He gasped, and tasted the coppery taste of his life giving fluid. He crumpled forward, and winced painfully as the pain in his chest intensified more.

Dread of death filled his heart. With his hazy vision, he saw a blood red spear, its tip lying inside his punctured heart. His life was fading fast, but still, he was able to discern his murderer: A boy, maybe of around his elder daughter's age.

Soulless eyes: color the same as certain most unforgivable of unforgivable curses, looked at him with unconcerned gaze. A racking cough made its way out of his mouth, making him tremble in unbearable agony.

And soon, the pain gave into anger. Fiddling with the wand that was still clutched in his hand, he decided, if he was going down, he will take this son of a bitch with him.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He watched in morbid fascination, as ghastly magic began to coalesce on tip of hi wand and fraction of a second later, leapt pout towards the spear wielding boy. The beam of deathly green magic, it had no trouble covering the short distance between him and his would-be-killer in matter of moments, whispering the song of death all the way as did so.

A flash of green lightshow, the sound of shattering glass, or something akin to it; and Peneus felt his wand clatter harmlessly to the ground, having slipped from his powerless grasp.

What the hell just happened? How could this happen? Wasn't the Killing Curse unblockable? Wasn't it the ultimate curse that doesn't fail? All this thoughts ran like an out of control freight train inside his head.

Finally, curiosity got the better of him and he found himself asking.

"Who are you?" he croaked out.

And in answer, the boy viciously twisted the spear, making Peneus howl in agony once again. And it was in that mind numbing sea of agony, a whisper drifted into his ear, carrying with it the name of his killer.

'So this must be how the Dark Lord must have felt before his demise.' And with this thought, Peneus Greengrass died.

As for his murderer, he vanished in the darkness of the night.

Or that was what Lucius had thought until he too found himself in the pointed end of the same spear that had just pierced the heart of Peneus; his fresh blood still dripping down from it.

"And who might you be?" He heard the boy speculate playfully, his serious demeanor from before nowhere to be seen. He eyed the boy cautiously. Killing was one of the hardest things for a human conscience to accept easily. And this boy, he had just killed two grown men and was showing no sign remorse in his eyes. Lucius was a veteran of one of the bloodiest war in wizarding history, and with his experience he could easily tell that the boy in front of him was a killer.

"Hang on!" he saw the boy scrunching his face hard, as if he was thinking about something. "I think I know you… er… it's vague…"

Lucius gulped and said, "I don't think we have ever m…" he was about to explain that they had never met and he was probably mistaking him for someone else, when the boy victoriously exclaimed.

"Ha! I got it. You are the lapdog of Tommy, Luscious Mayfly aren't you?"

At that precise moment, Lucius had to viciously suppress a huge urge to detach his wand from his cane and crucio the hell out of the boy in front of him. He was a great pureblooded wizard who took utmost pride in his glorious name, and for this boy to tarnish his name like this, it was blasphemy, unforgivable, and punishable by death even.

And not to mention the accusation of being a lapdog; he was a follower dammit, not a lapdog. When will people understand this? Tch, so infuriating!

But then, he was a snake and unlike those foolish lions, he used to prefer his brains more than brawns. Soon, his rational mind had taken control of his action and he just merely gave an awkward smile. After all what could he possibly do to someone who had just shrugged off the supposedly unblockable Killing curse like it was just some dust thrown at him by some child.

"Umm… it's Lucius Malfoy." He said. At that moment, he decided; he absolutely didn't like the feeling of standing in the stabbing end of a deadly spear. The dreaded anticipation of it piercing him at any time now was gnawing uncomfortably at him.

"Meh… Lucius, Luscious… it sounds same." The green-eyed boy flippantly said. Then locking his gaze with him, the boy slightly pressed the tip of his spear above Lucius' heart, making him tense. "Anyway, you seem like a useful guy, so no point in killing you." The spear was withdrawn.

Lucius took a deep breath of relief. Somehow, he was unaware that he was holding his breath all this time. This was strange day he thought. How the hell could a simple event for betrothing his heir with the Greengrass heiress turn into this farce, he would never know.

Composing himself, he asked, "Who are you? And how do you know about me?"

Instead of answering, the boy gave him a lopsided smirk. And then, without saying anything, he vanished in the dust of golden particles.

Xxx

***Scene Break***

**Somewhere in Japan**

She whimpered. She felt a huge lump in her throat, trying to make its way out as she silently sobbed in the corner, trying to cover herself as much as she could with the flimsy piece of lab coat she had grab hold of.

"Please…" she pleaded, "don't do this." Tear streamed down her face.

"Oi, oi… Why are you crying?" she heard him ask, his fake concern disgusting her. "After all, we are about to shape history here!" and his nerve grating grandiose, thinking that he was some god; it felt terrible.

Looking up at an old man of around 50 years of age, garbed in formal business suit, she could see her future crumbling away. After all, no matter how much she wanted, she knew, she would not be able to do anything to the man simply known as Chief Kakuzawa, Head of the Diclonius Research Institute.

Few years ago, it was confirmed that she possessed a genetic mutation in her because of which, she would be unable to give birth to normal human child. Similar in appearance, yet more powerful – physically and mentally both – these children were supposed to be the next big step in the human evolution.

"…and I will be the god of this new race; their messiah; their forefather!" She felt her heart sank further when she heard the despicable man declare.

Right now, she loathed herself. She hated what she had inside her. Hated, what it could create. Because of it, she had pay for trying to live a normal life. She was denied the right to feel loved by a man. And the cruelest of all, she had to agonizingly abstain from basking in the joy and happiness of being a mother, despite giving birth to the most beautiful flower.

"Throw away that stupid cloth, my dear. I hope you are ready for this!" Old Kakuzawa smirked. "Count yourself lucky dear. You are chosen by the god himself for this auspicious ritual." He said with a huge grin in his face as he began to lower his pants.

She dipped down her head in shame on hearing that. She wanted to scream; fight; protest. But in her mind, she had already admitted defeat. After all, what was the point of doing such a pointless thing? In here, his power was absolute, and no one could deny him what he desired.

She sucked on her breath sharply, when she felt the only piece of cloth covering her modesty being taken away. She tried to be as small as possible, the feeling of shame multiplying manifolds when she felt his greedy eyes roam over her body hungrily. Such a violating feeling it was, she felt like she was being degraded from the inside out.

"Come to papa, my dear…"

As the inevitable began to inch in closer and closer, she closed her eyes in submission to the god. Because right now in her mind, only he was the one who can save her. As she felt his breath wafting over her, her lips moved in silent prayer. She knew it was nothing but a futile attempt to escape from reality, but other than this, what could she do?

"Alright that's enough, you wrinkled skin cocksucker! Get away from her!" Suddenly, a powerful voice called out.

"The fuck!" the old man whirled around to see a boy sitting cross-legged, Indian style upon his desk. Nose flaring, he shouted, "What the fuck are you doing in here kid? Who let you in here?"

And the next thing he knew, there was a blur and then, his head now felt like it was split open from behind by a sledge hammer.

"Now I suggest that you keep that tone down, you old horny bastard." He faintly heard the boy say.

"You shithead, you will regret…*Argh*" he cried out in pain as his head was once again smashed against the wall.

"Alright, alright!" he cried out. "Who are you? And what do you want from me?" he whined.

The boy holding him on chokehold remained quiet for few seconds. "Harry Potter." He then curtly said.

The old man's eyes widened in recognition of the name.

"You…"

"Yes me." Harry gave a feral grin. "Glad to know that you remembered me, Kakuzawa!"

"Bu-but how?" the man looked at him with an expression of genuine shock on his face.

"Bu-but how?" Harry mocked him by imitating him in a high-pitched voice. "Tsk, you are the bastard who partnered with Peneus and loaded Vernon pockets, right?" Not waiting for confirmation, he tightening his grip on the old man's neck, "Now, say hello to Peneus in afterlife."

"What? Wai-wait! Please wait!" Chief Kakuzawa exclaimed in desperation. "Please listen to me for one second. One second, that is all I ask. I beg you!"

Harry looked at him with scowl etched in his face.

"Alright shoot!"

Nodding hastily, Kakuzawa said, "Harry was it?" Seeing the boy nod, he continued "You see, Harry. This world is filled with weak … *Boom*"

And just like that, courtesy of one well aimed reducto, Chief Kakuzawa met his demise with his head blown off.

"One second's up." Harry flatly said.

Letting his hold go of the deceased body, he cleaned himself up with a simple application of 'Evanesco'. Then making sure that there were no signs of blood or pieces of gore in him, Harry turned around and began to leave.

But before he went out of the room, he looked back through his shoulder. His face looked conflicted. It seemed like he was struggling with something. Then sighing, he clicked his tongue and tracked back.

"You alright there?" he asked; his voice uncertain.

He watched as he saw the redheaded Japanese woman, who was lying there in fetal position with nothing but her birthday suit on, made a squeaking sound and scooted further away from me.

'Great!' Harry thought, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I am not here to harm you lady." He tried to sound reassuring. With a flick of his hand, he transfigured the nearby tablecloth into a long gown like cloth; he tried to give it to her. But when he saw her flinching violently when he got near her, he decided for another course of action. There was no point in pressuring a woman who had just experienced the trauma of getting nearly raped.

"Here, put this on." He put it next to her, careful of not doing anything that might make it look like he was about to take advantage of her. The poor woman looked one breath away from fainting.

"Er… I am just outside the door. Notify me when you're finished." And after that, he did just as he said. Outside, Harry leaned against the wall and began to wait for her finish dressing up. His plan was to kill Kakuzawa and go on his merry way, but after seeing that lady he could not help but feel pity for her.

"This world is more fucked up than I thought." He muttered.

Today had been a weird day for him. Back in England, after he had blasted the house where he had spent the majority of his childhood to smithereens, he had begun to track down the peoples who had given money to his uncle. After grabbing hold of one 'helpful' person named, Mundungus Fletcher, he was able to know that two person were responsible; Peneus Greengrass and Chief Kakuzawa.

Of these two, tracking Peneus was trickier. Since he was a wizard, he had multitude of magical wards and barriers covering his tracks. But unfortunately for the wizard, Harry had worked his way around them and killed him. And as for the Chief guy, finding him was very easy. The fact that he was head administrator of some kind of research facility also helped a lot in tracking him down. After that, it was the usual affair; find him and strike him down.

*Thump*

His ears perked up when he heard the sound of something falling. First he dismissed it as nothing. But then, curiosity got better of him and he peered inside.

"What the hell!" He exclaimed when he saw the redheaded woman sprawling against the ground in a boneless heap. He absently noted – she was still naked. Quickly, he got down beside her and grabbed her hand. Her pulse was very weak. Her laborious breath and rapidly paling face didn't escape his notice. The signs were clear. She was dying.

Through his rising frustration he noticed the redheaded woman turned her dilated gaze towards him. She moved her lips, but no sound came. It looked like she was trying to tell him something.

"Hey, what are you saying?"

But still, only her bluish lips moved. Then, it became obvious to Harry that she was probably so out of energy that she couldn't even talk anymore. So to remedy this, he crouched very low and moved his right ear near her face.

"…save her…" he heard her say breathily. "…they will… kill her…" She took a deep gasping breath. Her voice was beginning to wane. "…Kaede … save Ka-Kaede..."

"Hey, hey…" he shook her. "Who is Kaede? Dammit woman, you are not making any sense!" Harry said.

But unfortunately, no answer came. Her strained breathings had tapered off. She had passed on.

'What the heck just happened?' Harry thought. Moving his head away from her, Harry stared blankly at the woman. Everything happened so quickly, he was unable to comprehend it. He had not expected something like this to happen.

Looking at the serene look on her face, it unnerved him a little. It felt odd. It felt surreal.

And it surprised him. He had thought that he was desensitized to death by now. Was it because this was actually the first death of which he was not the architect. Or was it because it was the first death behind which, he could not see any reason. He could only guess.

Rubbing his face, he stood up and shook his head slowly. And that was when a glint of silver coming from the redheaded woman's hand caught his attention. It was the pointed metallic tip of a syringe, and the by the looks of it – likely the cause of her death. She must have probably injected herself with whatever toxic chemicals it contained when he was outside the room.

"Troublesome woman," Harry mumbled as he crouched down to pick her up. Shifting her so that her dead body was draped over his shoulder, he looked around the lab for one last time. Then, gathering a small amount of fire magic in his fingers, he snapped it; igniting a spark in between his fingers.

And just before the glowing spark falling gently like a dandelion touched the floor to set aflame the entire lab, Harry's form vanished.

Xxx

After getting away from the lab, Harry had appeared in a quiet surrounding near Kamakura Beach. Surrounded by nature, and adequately far from the urban settings, he had thought it will make a good site for her proper burial.

"Tch, now that I think of it, I don't even know her name." He shook his head and looked at the blank slab of stone he had put above her burial site as a makeshift tombstone. He exhaled and rubbed his face. He realized that the longer he looked at the tombstone, more the odd surreal feeling returned inside him, making him feel somewhat detached from this world.

"I should get out of here." he stated to himself.

Thus, not wanting to dwell around much longer in that area, he went towards the sea shore and began to stroll around to take his mind off of things. After walking for few minutes, he found that he liked the sensation of soft wet bed of sand crunching under his feet. As the salty sea breeze crashed gently against his body, he sighed in relaxation. There was something about this vast blue sea before him that calmed him.

Then scrunching his eyes to look up at the sun, he realized there was still few hours left before dusk. Sitting down on the wet sand, not caring about getting wet himself, he then fell back on his back with his hands crossed behind his head.

"Weird day indeed," he mumbled.

Xxx

***Scene Break***

**Unknown Place**

As soon as the sound of hooves clashing against the charred ground stopped, with a resounding thud, the giant doors made of wood opened.

"Brother!" A giant of a man with vast physique, whose face was hidden by a large blood red cowl, called out in loud, gruff voice.

"Now what has pissed you of again, brother?" a dark purple haired woman who looked like she was in her early twenties, nonchalantly asked.

"It is none of your business!" the giant snapped.

"Whoa, whoa… easy there, brother!" another cool male voice joined in. "No need to unleash hell on sister dearest."

"I love you too, brother dearest." The sister said without the hint of said emotion to a slender man whose face was covered by a metallic helmet.

"I know you do." The helmet guy cheekily responded, spiking his already spike hair further.

"SHUT UP YOU FOOLS!" The giant brother exploded, his white eyes flashing with power. Then turning towards the only figure in the room that had remained silent till now, he demanded, "AND YOU … ANSWER ME!"

Looking at the large metallic finger pointed towards him, the pale figure of skeletal thin man scoffed. "Brother…" his rotten voice filtered out from the sinister looking executioner mask that he wore. "Before I cut another limb of yours, I suggest you to quit down your childish rants and sate your bloodlust somewhere else." It was clear that he was annoyed.

"Not before I know why you are letting your powers to be used by someone else." But his giant of a brother was stubborn. "You keep preaching to us don't do anything stupid that may come to bite you later in future. But after all this time, you yourself do something like this while fully knowing that this is nothing but stupid. Why then? Why did you give your power to that mortal?"

The air cackled with charged energy as both figure, each a powerhouse on his own stared defiantly into each other's eyes. But then, as the dreadful reddish orange eyes began to bore holes into the fierce white ones in the display of superiority, the white ones faltered.

The giant man broke the gaze and lowered his head, not in shame, but to control his rising temper. His anger always proved difficult to reign in once it was out of his control, but to let that happen in front of his eldest brother would be foolishness. He was aware of his elder brother's might. So he had to remain calm.

"If you are not going to answer me, then I will go and find the answer myself." He declared with his voice full of determination. Not interested to hear his siblings' opinion on that matter, he turned around left.

"Ruin!" he loudly called out as soon as he got outside. And answering his call, his mighty and loyal steed, covered in fire and smoke, burst out of the ground in front of him from a magical circle of hellish fire. Jumping on top of it, the shrouded man clenched his fist around his large sword.

"Harry Potter, you can look me in the eye when I kill you."

**A/N: So basically this was the chapter that puts things into motion. Anyway, what are your thoughts about this chapter? You can leave a review, or you can PM me too.**

***To the Elfen Lied fans and the fans of the original Slayer of the World, I am sorry that I could not bring Lucy in this chapter. But she will be making her appearance soon.**

****Next to be updated: Meteora - The Tale of Naruto Uzumaki **

**So until next time, bye!**


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